Quality Time
by Teh Pocky Ninja
Summary: Because spending quality time with your big brother is meaningful like that. Even if it's going to cost you some manliness points several years down the road. Pre-massacre fluff, makes fun of Ita's femininity. Sequal chapter up because I'm nice lyke dat.
1. Let's play hairstylist!

**Quality Time**

* * *

"Whatcha doing?"

Not the most incredulous of questions one could be asked by one's baby brother on a sunny June afternoon after said brother had wandered into your room without permission again.

You sigh, sending a bored glance at the babyish face peeking over the top of your room's desk table. How on earth he manages to find his way in here every time you want to be alone, you'll never know.

"What it looks like," you answer, putting down your coarse-furred hairbrush and picking a fine-toothed comb out of your neatly-arranged tray of hair, dare you use the word, _stuff_.

You'd been looking forward to this relaxation time all of yesterday, and had already spent most of the morning in the shower, washing dirt and twigs out of your beautiful black tresses. Really, after a week in the forest with no _toilet paper_ even, your poor hair had been in a traumatized state. And now, sitting cross-legged on your bed, you'd been hoping for a bit of quiet alone time, but _nooooo_.

"Why ya do it?" he asks again, his big, black eyes on your hand as you run your good comb through a stubborn snarl.

"Because otherwise it'll get greasy and tangled," you answer, squinting at a lock held between your right thumb and forefinger. Gods above, is that a _split end_?! You reach immediately for your little sewing scissors, stolen from a never-used embroidery kit of your aunt's. A well-placed snip and the smooth, black hairs are perfectly even again.

"Looks funny without a tail," he says, grinning a stupid, yet cute little smile.

"I'll put it back up when I'm finished," you answer in slight annoyance, glancing at your little black hair tie sitting unused next to your assortment of combs. Unfortunately for you, your family's most recent offspring addition showed no interest for the same things you did. Or maybe it was a good thing, as otherwise you'd have to share bathroom time. Horrible thought indeed.

"…Fun?" he questions innocently, after a significant period of hesitation.

"Yes, it is fun," you answer proudly, combing your bangs away from your forehead. You'd have to make a note later for Mother to purchase more of that peach-scented conditioner. The smell was nothing short of heavenly after drying.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice your sibling wander over to you, before turning to stare skeptically at your beloved _stuff_. The child was obviously wondering what was so great about these pieces of plastic, especially when there were kunai to be thrown at targets outside.

"I'll come out when I'm done," you say, cutting off his question before he can do more than open his little mouth. He, of course, proceeds to death-glare you before sitting down at the foot of your bed in a huff, crossing his arms in a display of I Shall Sit Here Until You Pay More Attention To Me Than Your Stupid Hair Et Cetera Et Cetera.

You sigh the sigh of an exasperated big brother, taking a good look at your sibling's unhappy expression. Come to think of it, his hair could use some work. It's none too neat, and does that funny thing where it sticks up in the back.

"Sasuke, come here."

He blinks his big eyes in surprise, but obeys. You pat your hand on an empty space beside you, and he quickly scrambles up next to you on your bed. All without disturbing your holy tray of _stuff_, because even at this early age he knows upsetting his big brother's _stuff_ is a good guarantee for a one-way trip to the afterlife.

"Turn around and hold still," you order, calmly selecting one of your thicker brushes.

"But I don't _wanna_!" he whines, pulling back at the sight of you wielding your "sissy stuff."

"I'll come outside and play with you all day," you say, knowing this is one offer he won't refuse.

A grumble of acceptance, and he turns back around. Were you one of those emotional types, or maybe a female, you might've squealed in delight at having new template for your beautician genius.

"Don't do anything dumb-looking," warns your new guinea pig.

"Promise," you reply, holding him by the shoulder with one hand while your other gently begins brushing down the spikes at the rear of his head. Other than the central part of his bangs, like yours, the rest of his pitch-black hair runs away from his face and downwards. The seeming weightlessness of his back spikes are due, upon further investigation, to the thickness of his locks, with the lower layers supporting the topmost layers. If only he would realized how follicle-y blessed he was. Alas.

He doesn't take nearly as much care of his as you do yours. With a chosen comb held in your mouth, you use your free hand to help coax his choppy locks into shape while brushing with your other hand. Despite his earlier complaints, he is sitting rather quietly, enjoying himself but not wanting to admit it.

You hear footsteps approaching your closed room door, but pay no attention to them until-

"Itach…?"

The door opens and your father is standing there, whatever he had been about to say trailing off into silence as he stares at the two of you.

"Hi, Daddy!" Sasuke says happily as you continue combing his hair. "I'm playing with big brother!"

The door slams shut.

"…Aniki?"

"Mm-hm?" you reply, the comb back in your mouth.

"Why is Daddy crying outside the door?"

"I have no idea. He usually doesn't start sobbing until I get my barrettes out. Oh well."

* * *

Because otherwise, this would've been made into a comic and put on Deviantart.

And because it's impossible NOT to make fun of men with hair that's prettier than mine. DX.

Maybe i should do a Dei one like this...

P.S. i totally had to borrow my neighbor's book on hairdressing to write this. lolz.


	2. Let's play dressup!

**Quality Time: Part 2!**

**

* * *

**

"Nii-san?"

"G'way," you mutter through a mouthful of pins. Now is _really_ not the time for your baby brother to be bothering you, especially since you're surrounded by pointy objects and short-fusing on patience. As if having to explain everything to your father _last_ time wasn't bad enough, here he is again to torment you when you're busy with something…_less-than-masculine_.

"Don't wanna," he retorts, knowing perfectly well he's annoying you. "Whatcha doing?"

"G'way Shashkay, uhm _busy_," you growl before spitting out your pins and carefully sticking them in your mother's borrowed, apple-shaped pincushion.

"…Why?"

You send him a glare, hoping he'll leave. He only glares right back at you, before staring at the pile of brightly-colored cloth in your lap.

"Whazzat?" he asks, pointing with an accusing finger.

"If you _must_ know," you answer in irritation, "Cousin Akiko's summer festival kimono is torn, and Auntie asked me to fix it for her. Now _go away._"

As you suspected, he doesn't listen. All he does is stand there, giggling through the hands he's clapped over his mouth so you can only barely see his amused grin.

"Nii-san's a girly," he chuckles as evilly as a five-year-old can manage. "Girly girly girly!"

"Go away," you mutter, returning to your project. There's only one tear on the hem left to fix, but you're stuck. Your cousin's only six, and right now you have no idea how tall she is. Without that information, you can't be sure your mending of the kimono silk won't make it trail on the ground when she walks and dirty the expensive designs.

"Sasuke?" you mutter reluctantly through gritted teeth.

"Meh?"

"Who's taller, you or Akiko?"

He was quiet for a moment, rubbing the back of his hand against his mouth as he thought.

"Neither," he says finally, scowling his unhappiness at not being taller than someone in his own age group. "Same-same."

You bite your lips for a moment, glancing between him and the cloth in your lap. It'd be finished much more quickly…and you'd have an idea of how to fix it up…

"Sasuke," you say slowly, "Can I ask you a favor?"

"…'Kay?"

"Come here and hold this up for me so I can fix the bottom."

His scowl vanishes, replaced by a happy-to-be-needed smile as he trots over to stand in front of you. You get up, pushing back your chair so you can get down on your hands and knees as he holds the pink kimono against himself. As you suspected, there would have been a chance of you making a serious error if you'd had to hold it in your lap like before.

"All right, now don't move."

"'Kay!"

Carefully, you begin threading your needle through each side of the small rent just beginning at the hem. Your little cousin would be overjoyed to find her "princess dress" restored to its former glory, though you'd have to have a conversation with her mother about letting her wear it for play clothes…

"Am I helping good, Nii-san?"

"Yeah, just hold still…"

After a few more minutes of microscopic stitching, you get back up, feeling the bones in your spine crack from bending over so long.

"All done?"

"Mmm…" you murmur, lifting up the bottom of the tiny robe. The tear is almost invisible, but you needed to check to see if it'd hold…

"Sasuke, turn around. I'm going to lean this against your back."

"'Kay…"

So maybe having a meddling baby brother isn't so bad after all, you think as you hold the vibrant silk up against him. The child's robe seems the right length, and even with a few soft tugs, the material appears to be holding up.

"Slipping," he warns.

"All right, just…just put your arms through the sleeves for now, it'll help it to keep from moving."

"Soft!" he exclaims approvingly as he obeys.

"Good. Stay still."

Another minute or so, and the rosy cloth shifts as he begins to squirm.

"What _now_?" you ask in the most exasperated tone you can muster.

"…Itchy."

"That's because it's not _tied_. Now hold still. Mannequins aren't supposed to move."

"Whatsa manny-kin?"

"A…model. Ugh, this isn't working…"

His big, dark eyes watch in curiosity as you reach for the until-now folded obi sash that goes with this kimono. The deep, cherry-red color complements the soft pink of the feminine robe rather nicely.

"Here, I'll tie it so it won't itch."

He remains still as you wrap the sash around his waist, tying it in the back with a snug knot so it won't come undone while you're working.

"Now hold still or I'll gut you."

"'Kay…"

You had just been about to reach for that accursed pincushion when you froze as the room's door clicked open. You didn't even need super-ninja senses to tell that a pair of shocked eyes were currently glancing between you, and your little brother dressed in a bright pink girl's kimono.

"Ooh! Ooh! I know!" Sasuke exclaims happily. "'_This isn't what it looks like,'_ right?"

You groan in frustration as the door slams shut for the second time this week, with quick footsteps trailing away from this obviously shocking scene.

"Nii-san? Where was Uncle going?"

"To…see Daddy," you mutter, your palm already slapped against your forehead.

"Why?"

"…To tell him his little boy's become a…transvestite."

"What's that?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

* * *

Muhuhuhahaha. Sequal love for joo all.

Because I'm in a bashing mood, rawr.


End file.
